Cleaning at Addenbrooke’s Hospital
In June 1964, Henry’s future wife Katharina arrived in Cambridge from Switzerland for a six month English course, at the end of which she would take the Cambridge Proficiency in English examination. During a three week break, she worked as a cleaner at Addenbrooke’s Hospital.
At that time, Cambridge’s main hospital was still “Old” Addenbrooke’s, located on Trumpington Street in the city centre. However, Katharina was employed to clean at “New” Addenbrooke’s, south of the city. “New” Addenbrooke’s had opened in 1962 and when Katharina went to work there in 1964 there were just a handful of buildings – worlds away from the gargantuan jungle it is today.
Below are photographs of Addenbrooke’s that Katharina took while she was working there, as well as descriptions of her work that she wrote in letters to her parents.
Work begins: 07:15 to 12:30 and 14:00 to 17:15. The great thing is, that there is no bus before 07:15. This morning I was at the bus station at 06:20. Seven o’clock came – with no trace of a bus. Almost froze to death waiting. I had to order a Taxi. But how? I only had 10 shillings on me, a banknote, and couldn’t exchange it anywhere as there were no shops open and virtually nobody on the street. The next person I saw, I stopped. He had no change, but he gave me sixpence. I rushed to the nearest telephone box (we don’t have a telephone at the Stocks’ [the family Katharina was boarding with]) and … I did not know how to telephone. Telephoning in England is an art in itself, and until now I had not had to telephone.
At last the central office responded and connected me with a taxi station – at 07:25 I was at the hospital. I am now a cleaning lady. They actually wanted me to work in the office, but it was too difficult – everything was “technical” and I understood nothing. So now I am a cleaning lady and I am happy about it! Firstly, it allows my brain to rest; secondly, it is a unique and wonderful life lesson; and thirdly, I earn more money doing it. I am “on” Corridor 2. Was given an old, green, long (look like a ghost!) apron, broom and vacuum cleaner and cleaned four private and four “mass” wards. I do it gladly from the heart; what I have seen here is beyond words. So much misery, pain! The patients were so thankful. For every word, for every smallest thing. And I learnt again, what it means to be healthy. In one ward were ladies “with brain surgeries”. Heads shaved bald, air and “meals” through little tubes in their noses. It is terrible! How much I would have liked to have been of more help than just cleaning! All groaned, croaked, screamed, cried. In another ward there were “the accidents”. Here oh good God. Mangled bodies, smashed heads, all in plaster and bandages. Groaning also here. In another ward were the “Fractures”. Here it was quite cheerful. In the fourth ward were “milder cases”. Things were quite cheerful there too. (The last three wards were mens’ wards.)
The four private rooms! Oh! Also here was misery, pain and distress. I never knew whether the patients (two women and two men), were actually still alive or not. I hardly dared to work. Avoided any noise and tried not to bump into anything. Then I washed dishes. Mountains of dishes. Got “a nice cup of tea” and already it was midday. In the canteen there was coffee and sandwiches. In the afternoon we changed curtains (there’s a curtain around every bed), washed dishes again and already my first hospital day is over. It is very nice to work there, and somehow it makes me happy. Later I will write more about it.
Once again, I’ve been really lucky – I’m just a lucky person!
In the meantime it has already become late and I must go to bed. Oh yes – tomorrow I must walk to town and at 7 o’clock an ambulance will be waiting for me. It is going from the old hospital to the new one and will give me a ride, as there are no buses at that time. It’s long been my wish to ride in an ambulance or fire engine.
Katharina, letter to parents, August 1964 (translated from German)
Uff! A week behind me. So much has happened! Really, I’m learning a good lesson right now!
I just got home. Oh, it’s so good to come out of the hospital – to see all the healthy people in the city, on the street.
So, at 07:15 I start. First I must vacuum. Four rooms (eight beds) and seven private rooms. Then wash up. Then clean the basins in the rooms and the bathrooms and toilets. And then wash up again. The time flies, and in a flash it’s 12:30. I have a break until 14:00. Then dust all the rooms, wash up, clean something, wash up again, mop the kitchen – and it’s already 17:15. Physically it is quite exhausting, but with my brain, I can rest.
But I have it good, because all the people I meet here are very kind and friendly to me. Patients who are feeling a little better spoil me with all kinds of things; they are very grateful for everything one does for them. Even a little smile, a word, or listening for a while pleases them. The funniest thing, however, is that “my” patients who will soon be able to go home are trying to show me all the love they can. They help wash up, dry up, carry the kettle for me … when the doctors come to see them, they have to look for them in the kitchen. Even the doctors like to come “for a chat”, get a strong “Black” (black coffee), which does not stop me from continuing to clean. But despite this I am deeply shaken! – I had to witness two deaths because I just happened to be in the room at the time.
And all the seriously ill – their moaning, whimpering, crying affects me deeply. Their heads are shaved bald (women too), many lie naked on the beds, “fans” cool their hot bodies. It looks terrible. They get “food” and air through tubes in their noses. Thank God most are unconscious or in a deep, deep sleep. I hardly dare breathe, let alone vacuum.
One patient is particularly close to my heart, because he resembles dear Gottlieb [Katharina’s uncle] so much. Every time I look at him, it gives me a pang in my heart. His wife comes every day, lays her hand on his arm and stays with him hour after hour. He does not know it, because he is still sleeping. How terrible it must be for his wife to see her husband like this; his trachea has been opened and he is artificially ventilated, as he cannot yet breathe on his own. His doctor, however, told me that there’s a 98% chance he will pull through and he will even work again. This is very comforting and I hope to experience the moment of his recovery while I am still working at Addenbrooke’s Hospital.
And I’m learning English too! Everyone wants to teach me something. That is very kind. Although very often there is “slang”, but that is part of it too. And the funniest thing is that I’m unintentionally beginning to speak “Cambridge” English. But it will quickly fade again. Where we say “äi” or “ei”, the native Cambridger makes a heavy, long “ai”. This dialect is a bit like an old-fashioned farmer’s Bernese German compared to “von Tscharner” Bernese German. [von Tscharner was an aristocratic author who wrote in Swiss German.]
Riding in the ambulance is amazing! I feel like a cockerel on a dung heap!
Katharina, letter to parents, September 1964 (translated from German)
I am well. I am also happy. The patients bring me so much joy. It’s so nice to be able to do something for them. When I enter the room they say: “Look, here comes our sunshine”. These dear words give me all the strength I need.
Alan, a 17 year old boy, made a picture for me. I was very touched and could barely believe it. It is no artwork and yet I find it beautiful. Hills are on it, a shepherd dog, a cheerful hiker, a few trees, a little house. Alan is having surgery next week. Oh, that hurts a lot.
And today I received my first salary. (Cleaning ladies are paid weekly.) A whole £9 5/3, I worked 59 3/4 hours at 3/8. Sundays as well, because on Sundays there are even more staff shortages than usual. Unfortunately, I had to leave my first patients, all of whom I had taken into my heart. I was placed on another corridor. The cleaning lady in charge is on vacation – and since they are satisfied with my work and admire my “eye” for work (no wonder after three years of cleaning [her father’s butchers shop]) they believe that I can manage this ward. It is smaller, with two rooms of eight patients, two private rooms, one with two boys (to whom I tell fairy tales) and one with four babies. Here I am completely alone; my own lord and master. I am very proud of this “promotion”, because there are cleaning ladies who have worked in the hospital for a long time, but cannot do it independently; one must tell them everything first. Next Wednesday I will stop, however, because I still need to sleep a little, and allow myself a day away somewhere, probably the sea, which I’m already longing for again.
Oh, it is hard to get myself out of bed. It is not at all nice to chase oneself out of warmth and comfort. But once I am out, it is nice. The sun comes, the birds sing.
And mostly I don’t need to go on foot anymore, because someone’s always giving me a lift in their car. Other early risers, who take pity on me. Very nice people who are happy to start their day’s work with a “good deed.”
The babies are sweet. Tiny little beings! And, oh, it is so sad. One with a water head, one with completely twisted little legs, one that has had brain surgery – the cut goes over its whole little head, but it will be healthy and normal. One fell and had a haemorrhage; they had to remove the congealed blood from its brain, but it too will recover. Thank God.
Well, that’s it for today. I experience and see so many things here, learn so much, both English and about life. It’s a good, a very good lesson …
Katharina, letter to parents, September 1964 (translated from German)
The cleaning work at the hospital is finished. It was very, very nice to work there, and I learnt a lot. I would not want to have missed a single minute.
Katharina, letter to parents, September 1964 (translated from German)
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